


Falling

by SilverMoon53



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec isn't there for it but he's mentioned lots, Clary and Magnus talk about Alec's suicide attempt, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Magnus Bane & Clary Fray Friendship, Magnus is a Good Friend, Post-Episode: s02e08 Love is a Devil, discussion of suicide, posting this tonight because ive been working on this for months and if i dont now i never will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 04:24:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13709754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverMoon53/pseuds/SilverMoon53
Summary: Here’s the thing about suicide attempts and their aftermath.The person who tried to kill themself, the one who almost died, is usually the least impacted. They dust themself off, accept that they almost died, accept that they’re still alive, assess who now knows what and then they are faced with a choice. Do they bury those exposed parts of themself, move the hatred and the pain deeper and act like nothing is wrong, or do they open up and admit their thoughts and feelings?The thing is, no one can help with that choice. Either way, it takes time to decide and in that time, they are usually unbothered by the events. Accept, adjust, and move on. Done.But the other people? The ones who saw their friends, their lovers, their family, that broken and damaged? The ones who called for help, or pulled them back from the ledge, who hid the pills and the blades and the rope?Magnus has been on both sides, more times than he will ever admit. Without a doubt, it is harder to be in the second group. Which is why, a few days after the party, when the dust has settled and the property damage repaired, when rest has been had but feelings are still fresh, it is Clary he invites over for a drink.





	Falling

**Author's Note:**

> Based on my own experiences.

She arrived precisely 28 minutes late, which was at least 2 minutes before Magnus expected her. He put the drinks he was mixing down and walked to the door. 

“Come in,” he told her, holding one arm out in welcome. “Have a seat.” He waved off her apology for being late and walked back to the table. He finished mixing the drinks in silence, letting her tension wash over him and gazing at the dark sky. 

Clary took the offered beverage with a polite “Thank you,” but didn’t drink. Her eyes watched him, intense, yet wary and tired. 

“Try some, biscuit,” Magnus promoted, sitting on one of the chairs across from her. “It’s Baileys and hot chocolate, not too strong with alcohol but with extra chocolate.” He winked and added, “Good for the nerves.”

“I’m not nervous,” she said, but took a sip anyway. Magnus did the same and waited for her to speak. Several minutes of silence and sipping passed, then Clary sighed. “You want me to leave, too, don’t you.” It was a statement more than a question, heavy with resignation and thick with bitterness. Magnus raised an eyebrow, but didn’t answer. “I won’t. He’ll just find me, or find someone else. He captured an Angel once, he’ll do it again. So don’t bother suggesting it.” He held her gaze steadily, face calm and relaxed.

There was a lie in her eyes, dark and buried not quite deep enough to hide from the warlock. She had thought about leaving, that much was clear from her words, but her eyes told Magnus that the thoughts had been about leaving more than the city. He wondered idly if he needed to bring these up, but decided against it. She would when she was ready, and mostly likely not with him. 

“I wasn’t going to,” he said instead. She raised an eyebrow, disbelieving, and he sighed. He leaned forward and placed his mug on the table. “I wasn’t even going to mention any of that. Truly.” Clary scoffed.

“Why else would you call me here?”

“Because Alexander tried to kill himself.” Clary’s eyes finally dropped at the bluntness of Magnus’s words, but only for a second. She brought them back up too quickly and held her hands too still, white-knuckled around her mug, as she replied.

“That wasn’t him. That was the spell.” Her voice was too even, artificial and practiced. “Besides, you caught him, we talked, we’re good. No harm, no foul.” She shrugged one shoulder, but her movement was too jerky, her eye contact was too intense. “Besides, he seems fine now.” 

Magnus smiled, soft and bitter and not reaching his eyes. He reached a hand over and gently laid it on Clary’s shoulder. “He does,” he agreed. “And he will be. Given time, he will be okay. But, Clary Fairchild, I did not ask you here to talk about him.” She tore her eyes away again, his gaze intense and unyielding. “I wanted to talk to you about how _you’re_ doing.” He drew back again, as she shifted to put her mug on the table, waving his hand in a vague gesture around them as he continued. “All this madness with the Soulsword, with Valentine, and the Angels aside, you saw a friend try to kill himself. And, even worse, it was your voice that drove him to it, even if it wasn’t actually you.”

“It was the spell, it was all that spell,” Clary spat, voice hard and sharp. She made a move to stand up as she rushed on. “I would _never_ say those things, I don’t-”

“I know!” Magnus raised his voice lightly, hands held up in an attempt to pacify the angered Shadowhunter. “You misunderstand. I hold no blame against you, and I firmly believe that Alexander feels the same. Please,” he said, voice low and gentle once more, “sit.” 

Slowly, Clary settled back onto the chair. She looked down at her hands, trying to still the shaking. Neither said anything for a minute or two, Clary seeming focused on slowing her breathing and Magnus content to wait until she was ready. 

“I was trying to talk him down,” she finally said. Her voice shook but didn’t break and she pushed on. “I- he seemed upset. I mean, we all were, obviously, but I was more _mad_ than anything and he just seemed…” she trailed off. Magnus gave her a reassuring smile.

“Take your time,” he said softly. She returned his smile weakly and let out a breath. 

“Off, I guess? I don’t know what it was exactly. He almost seemed calm, but in a bad way if that makes sense. I thought maybe he blamed himself for me leaving, and I wanted him to know that wasn’t the case. He already blames himself on so much, you know?” She raised her head quickly, as though remembering something important. “I don’t blame him for my mother’s death. I did, a little, at first. But it’s Valentine’s fault, only his. You know that, right? I don’t blame Alec.”

“I know, biscuit. And I think Alexander knows it too. He’s just so hard on himself, like you said.”

“Is that why- why he…” Clary shook her head again, unable to finish the thought. “I had gotten stuck in the crowd a little, and by the time I had found him again, he was standing there. Just standing, like he did it every day, like he wasn’t less than a foot from death.” She laughed, short and bitter and mirthless. “Well, he kinda does face death most days, what with being a demon hunter and all. Not to mention that he _has_ jumped off buildings before and been fine, but that was because of a surefooted rune. But this... this was different.” She worked her mouth soundlessly for a few moments then sighed. She raised a hand to wipe her eyes, and seemed shocked to find tears. 

“Here,” Magnus offered, “let me get you some tissues.” He rose and walked back to the bar, where he filled a glass with cold water and grabbed a box of tissues. He passed them to her wordlessly, and placed a trash can next to the armrest of her seat. She nodded her thanks and took a few moments to compose herself before continuing. 

“He was just so _calm,_ Magnus. There was nothing but calm in his eyes. No fire, no anger, no sadness, just calm acceptance. Like nothing mattered anymore. And then, in that moment, between when he fell and you caught him.” She shook her head, as if unwilling to remember. “He _smiled._ A real, genuine smile, like he wanted this. Like he was _happy_ to die.” The shaking crept from a conscious action to uncontrollable shuddering that wracked her body. Magnus swept forward to wrap her in a tight embrace.

“Shh, shh,” he murmured into her ear as he held her trembling form. “Let it out, biscuit, it’s okay.” 

“It’s not, though,” Clary finally sputtered out, “It’s not. It was my words that sent him up there, my voice that pushed him! If-if I hadn’t gone up after him-”

“Then he would have hallucinated something else, only I wouldn’t have been there to catch him,” Magnus said sharply, cutting her off. He drew back, grip tight on her shoulders as he held her at arm’s length. “Look at me. _Look at me,_ Clary Fairchild, and you listen to me. You following Alexander up there saved his life. If you hadn’t sensed something was wrong, if you hadn’t followed him and shouted like you did, I wouldn’t have gotten there in time. You did everything you could, and that was everything you needed to do.”

Clary held his gaze for several long seconds before nodding. Immediately, Magnus swept forward to embrace her again. He held her tightly, murmuring soothingly as she cried. 

She didn’t let herself go, not completely. Magnus could tell by the way her breath caught and hitched, knew that she wasn’t ready to let all of her walls down yet. He held her while she released what she was willing to, not pushing or shying away. She was in a place he had been many times before, so he simply gave her the space to grieve that he wanted. 

After a while, she managed to slow her tears and pull away. He gave her one last squeeze before letting her go. She sat up and Magnus pointedly turned his back to return to his seat to give her a moment to compose herself. 

When he turned around, Clary’s eyes were dry. It was still clear she had been crying, but Magnus was more than willing to pretend he didn’t notice. She waved her arms in a vague gesture, not quite making eye contact with him.

“So, how are you? Dealing with this, I mean,” she clarified, looking embarrassed. “I can’t even imagine what it must have been like, to see someone you love like that. Alec and I are friends, sure, but we barely get along at the best of times, yet you’re the one comforting me.”

Magnus opened his mouth to speak then turned away, closing it. He offered her half a smile but kept his gaze out the window. 

“When,” he began, hesitant, “well, when you live as long as I have…” he trailed off and then took a sharp breath. “Well, I don’t want to say you get used to it, because you don’t, ever. Not really.” He could feel her eyes burning into him but couldn’t bring himself to face her just yet. “But I will say that it becomes less of a shock. I don’t want to say that it becomes less upsetting, either, because it never stops hurting. To see someone you care about so resigned, so hopeless, it stays with you.”

In the silence following his words, Clary laid her hand on Magnus’s shoulder, as he had done to her what felt like years ago. He stiffened at first under her touch, then reached up and placed his hand over hers. Finally, he managed to look up and nod his thanks. She returned the gesture with a small smile and pulled back, motioning for him to continue when ready.

“You have to focus on the good. That your friend survived, in cases such as Alec’s, and that they are no longer suffering, in… the other ones. It’s hard, being on this side of things such as these. You want to help but you don’t know what to do or say. The hard truth is that there isn’t much you _can_ do. These aren’t demons you can kill with a blade or a bow. There is no magic spell nor rune to send them back to hell. All you can do is be there for each other. Sometimes they accept your help, sometimes they don’t. It’s hard, and it hurts, and there is no easy fix. You can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped.” Magnus paused and gave his head a quick shake, chasing off the darker thoughts that threatened. He raised his eyes to meet Clary’s again and smiled, much more genuine this time. “But I think Alec does want help, even if he won’t admit it. He’s probably just too stubborn to ask.” 

“You can say that again,” Clary chuckled. 

The settled into an easy silence, letting each other process what had happened and what to do next. It was much more comfortable than the previous silences, Magnus noticed, and Clary looked less tense than she had in weeks. He leaned back into his chair with a smile, happy to let the quiet run its course. 

They both jumped when Clary’s phone chimed loudly. She grabbed at it quickly, though to silence it or answer it, Magnus didn’t know. Her face fell when she saw whatever the message was and she groaned. 

“Magnus, I’m sorry, I have to go,” she said, looking back up at him. 

“So go,” he said simply. “I accomplished what I called you here to do. Besides, Valentine won’t hunt himself down.”

“Thank you,” Clary said as she stood up. Magnus stood as well and walked her to the door, but held her arm before she could leave.

“You can always talk to me,” he told her, eyes boring into hers. “No matter what. I’m here for you.” She nodded and he let her go with a smile.

“Thank you, Magnus. For everything.” And with that, she was gone and Magnus was alone in his loft.

With a sigh, he turned to the bar to fix himself a much stiffer drink.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr at https://cloudcoveronclearnights.tumblr.com/ or on Discord: cloudcover#7167 Feel free to send me a message and just start talking!


End file.
